by Robin Konstabaris
It was late in August when my friends and I decided to visit the Badlands of Alberta, Canada. Most of Alberta is flat, and there was no real direct route, so we just drove down various prairie highways and roads to get there.
The grasses were high, it was hot but not sunny, the huge domed sky blanketed with a thin layer of clouds. We were not beset by any pesky bugs like mosquitoes, but there was a fair share of crickets which seemed the only wildlife we could detect. The roads were lined with wire fences, and every now and then we would see a row of modern silos, which are metal and tubular rather than wooden like the classic grain elevators that are almost nearly extinct on the Canadian prairies. We came to a row of four which appeared to us to be very far away, but as we approached them, we found they were near and tiny. Our eyes had been fooled! The flatness of the land and the lack of any defined shadows had really played a number on our depth perception.
The Badlands are valleys which are surrounded by hills that have eroded to show the geological strips of the ages. The valley floors are lush enough near the rivers, but the hills and non-irrigated plains are barren. Some scraggly bushes might grow here and there, and yellow tracks of grass, but mainly they are bald and prehistoric, with the occasional jutting hard rock formations that have resisted the ravages of time. It was oddly quiet but I couldn’t help imagining the sound of saloon doors flapping open and closed. We were not expecting such exposed vastness, and would not have been surprised to see the coyote chasing the roadrunner, although we only saw a tumbleweed or two. It was hot and dry but not dusty like you might think. The dust had blown away long ago.
Drumheller is the heart of the Badlands and the dinosaur fossil capital of the world. Its main industry is dinosaurs and the town lets you know it. Look, there is Fred and Barney’s All You Can Eat Chinese and Western Buffet! Many businesses had fiberglass dinosaurs in front. The fire hall had one painted like a dalmatian, and another one had been painted all steampunk and metal. Well, no one knows what a dinosaur’s skin really looked like, do they? A lot of kids like dinosaurs so many of the town’s visitors were families with children. The downtown is small with no structures over two stories, with little cafes that serve grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken fingers and not very good coffee. We felt like no real living was done there, as if the town only existed so the children and their parents had some infrastructure to meet their needs after they were done looking at dinosaur bones.
In front of the Dinosaur Museum there was a T-Rex so large we could climb steps inside and six or seven people could gaze out of it’s mouth for a sweeping view of the town with the Badlands behind it.
“This is the last thing you would see if eaten by the giant T-Rex of Drumheller,” I said to Step and Linda.
The insides of the giant T-Rex were painted in what I suppose was a representation of its digestive tract interspersed with prehistoric landscape but it was so poorly done it just looked like preteen vandals had been let loose with spray paint cans and electrician tape.
Many tourist guides and official Badlands media had representations of the monolithic hoodoos, which were only sixteen kilometres from the giant T-Rex. Hoodoos are rock formations that have hard flat tops that have prevented the rock below them from eroding away. We had seen beautiful pictures of the towering hoodoos with the sun setting behind them, and pictures of them dominating the sweeping, arid landscape around them. Such a phenomenon of nature!
The road to the Hoodoos, although along a river, was not verdant at all. The dry, golden road with its walls of striped history really did make us feel like we were in the wild west, heading for the canyons. We were prepared for Nature’s majesty! But upon arrival at these Hoodoos, we discovered them to be few and only four feet tall.
The site was crowded and little kids were able to climb upon them with no trouble at all. Over the years, people had scratched their names into the hoodoos, and the whole site was sad and diminutive and desperate.
We laughed at how Alberta, with it’s flatness and vastness and lack of shadows, had fooled us for the second time that day, and I set about taking my own photos of the hoodoos which showed them without people and reaching for the summits of the desert sky, therefore doing my part to perpetuate the myth of their mystery and silent grandeur. Because sometimes, especially when we’re out seeking adventure, if life refuses to amaze us with its reality, we have to let a little fiction in to sweeten our day and our memories.
Drumheller and Badlands Full-Day Tour with a Small Group
If You Go:
Travel Drumheller
Drumheller Hoodoos
Royal Tyrrell Museum
Fall/Winter 2012/13
September 1 – May 14
♦ 10:00 a.m. – 5:00 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday
♦ Note: Closed Mondays, except for public holidays
♦ Open Remembrance Day (November 11) and Monday, November 12
♦ Closed Christmas Eve – Monday, December 24 & Christmas Day – Tuesday, December 25
♦ Closed New Years Day – Tuesday, January 1
Spring/Summer 2013
♦ May 15 – August 31
♦ 9:00 a.m. – 9:00 p.m.
♦ Open seven days a week, including holidays.
Allow 2 to 3 hours for a thorough visit of the Museum galleries.
Royal Tyrrell Museum Gift Shop is open during regular Museum hours.
Canadian Badlands Day Trip from Calgary
About the author:
Robin Konstabaris is a visual artist and cartoonist best known for her former weekly comic strip “Clip ‘n’ Save”. She is currently honing her creative writing skills.
All photos are by Robin Konstabaris.
Our AAA paper map in hand, the GPS stored away safely in the glove box we set out starting with a short stretch of the I5 from Bellingham to Burlington. There we exited taking Hwy. 20, followed by a thirty minute ferry ride to Historic Port Townsend and continued south on the inland highway, yes there are two Highways numbered 101. At this point we make sure to take the road to Leland and along the Hood Canal.The route was clearly shown on the map which is important as between the towns of Shelton and Arctic Wash. the highway number changes no fewer then four times. A more enjoyable journey the road snakes through Washington State from Burlington to the Oregon border passing through small communities rather then blasting past blurred exit signs to distant places. While the inland 101 is for the most part two lanes with lots of curves and a long stretch of logged off forest that also took the brunt of the November 2007 wind storm, it is still a much more relaxing drive then the I5. Our drive home will be the same restful route.
It’s late August the afternoon of day one of our road trip. We’ve made good time as we pass Dismal Nitch and cross the Megler Bridge over the Columbia River on the border of Washington and Oregon. Through the fog and far below we can see a large sandbar and deteriorating pilings, remnants of canneries and a once vigorous fishing industry. Astoria is our first stop in part because it is the perfect days drive from the Canada/U.S. border and we can sleep under the bridge. Don’t worry we do have a hotel room.
The first permanent U.S. Pacific Coast settlement, Astoria was incorporated in 1876 by settlers attracted to the fur trade, fishing and canneries. The town’s future became shaky when those employers packed up and left town so Astoria reinvented itself as a tourist destination. Key to the town’s undertaking is the River Walk a five mile ribbon extending along the river and serving both as a pedestrian walk, a cycle path as well as a trolley route that runs adjacent to quaint cafes, small shops and working wharves.
Day two of our Oregon trip, it’s foggy and cool. Cannon Beach is a short drive south of Astoria on the 101 and is so named for a cannon that washed ashore from the U.S. Navy Schooner Shark in 1846. A touristy community, Cannon Beach is also more family oriented complete with beach bikes,horse back riding, sand castle contests, kids in I heart Cannon Beach hoodies, ice cream and gift shops. There’s motels, hotels, B&Bs and family style restaurants all within walking distance of the beach. We include it in our journey for the miles of sandy beach, the open ocean and Haystack Rock. Stopping just long enough to stretch our legs and let Islay have a run on the beach,we continue in our search for the sun. It’s on to Lincoln City.
South of Tillamook the 101 heads inland through farm country passing towns with names such as Beaver, Hebo, Oretown and Neskowin before it veers west again offering a peek-a-boo view of the Pacific Ocean. Smiles appear on our faces, the dog wakes from her nap with a shake seemingly aware that she is minutes away from chasing gulls on the beach while barking at the wind. After a day and a half on the road we are nearing our road trip’s southern destination, Lincoln City Oregon.
Lincoln City is an incorporation of several small communities, it’s name courtesy of a children’s naming contest. It’s economy dependent on tourism, retired folks and a casino. While it may not have the history or the character of some other coastal towns Lincoln City does have its own characters. Ken Morris is a trained chef, his persona and Humble Pie reminiscent of a sixties low budget movie and the home of possibly the best pizza on the Oregon Coast. Don’t get me started on his freshly baked chocolate éclairs.
To soon our week has ended but unwilling to rush home we stop again south of Cannon Beach. This is a much quieter area,the beaches more vast while the restaurants and shops are minutes away. Always open to new epicurean treats, on a recommendation from the lodge staff we try the Sweet Basil Café. The café is small, the décor is Louisiana rustic, the Chef’s leanings are Cajun.The food is local and delicious, it’s a gem in the state known for Red Bull Slushies, pancake dispensing machines and where size matters when it comes to meal portions.
The 10 minute ferry ride from Campbell River, which has been running since 1960, deposited us at the tail end of an armada of vehicles unloading at our destination; which proved ideal as it allowed us a leisurely drive and opportunity to gawk. That in turn gave us the opportunity to pull in for a coffee at the Cafe Aroma and drink in a little island atmosphere, replete with eclectic decor, local folks chatting, laid back pace and friendly servers. We garnered a coffee and discussed our touring route.
The hotel has been serving the island in one form or another since 1895 when Hosea Arminis Bull built the first incarnation. It lasted until a 1912 fire wiped the slate clean and it was rebuilt. Bull sold the place in 1926, two years after his wife had passed away and it remained in private hands until 2008 when it was purchased by the Community Custodial Concept Group with the stated desire of maintaining the edifice and service for the residents of Quadra and visitors. The stately lodge contains much of the old 1912 building but has been modified and expanded over the years. It gazes out over the bay and to the distant coast mountains beyond; enfolded in its gardens and lawn complete with a giant sized and manned chess board.
Our server at the pub suggested a trip to Rebecca Spit Provincial Park for a great look-back perspective. So informed we found and took the gravel roadway onto the thin two kilometre spit of land and found ourselves the chance to explore beach and trail; offering panoramas on either side of the spit. Driftwood and sea-lost logs were strewn about the seaward shoreline, like pick-up sticks, whilst the opposite shore hid the protected inner anchorage of Drew Harbour. A defined trail led through the trees running the spine of the spit and chanced us an opportunity to meet and chat with a local dog and his valet. None of us hurried in such a setting we chatted for a considerable while before returning to our respective treks.
Putting aside our camera, as no photos are allowed in the building, we paid our admission of $10 per adult and began the experience. Cultural artifacts seemingly incorporating every conceivable aspect of the surrounding natural environment filled glass enclosures with captions telling of their story, purpose and people associated with them. Stories of the great potlatches, their purpose, nature and persecution by non Natives and eventual rebirth spelled out. We learned how the ceremonial treasures and regalia had been repatriated from museums and galleries throughout North America and a new home built for them overlooking the waters of their home, opening in February 1979. The present day centre was re-opened in May 2007. It is recommended you allow at least 45 minutes to make your way through this stunning collection and display of First Nations’ culture and artistic skill.
Severe weather, jagged shorelines and increasing shipping traffic led to the construction of Door’s first lighthouse in 1836. Pottawatomie Lighthouse was built high on the dolomite bluffs above Lake Michigan on Rock Island. The lighthouse was named after the Native Americans living in the area; it means ‘keepers of the fire.’
William Jackson became the first keeper on Cana Island in November 3, 1869. His wife Caroline was the assistant keeper. William was paid $600/year for his work; Caroline received $400. These wages would remain the same for all keepers and their assistants for the next 30 years. William and Caroline left their positions in 1872.
The one and a half storey keeper’s house was set up as a duplex – with the keeper and his family living on the first floor and his assistant and family on the second. In 1945, the light was automated and the last keeper left the island.
Volunteers spend a week at a time living (and working) in the restored lighthouse. They guide visitors through the building in addition to keeping the building spotlessly clean. The lantern room was removed in 1988 and the light now shines from a tall steel frame set away from the house. A replica lantern room is now open in the lighthouse and visitors can scramble up the steep wooden steps for view.
Walter Duclon’s guitar and his mother’s piano can be seen in the lighthouse today – refurbished by the Door County Historical Society to include a few of the Duclon family heirlooms. The walls are now whitewashed instead of the traditional layers of green or grey paint, but otherwise the restoration has taken the building back to what it looked like in the early 1900s.
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